


Dinner with the Ice King

by 100demons



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, News Media, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: THE NEW YORKERUp Life’s Ladder | March 1, 2017 IssueDinner with the Ice KingAt age 27, Victor Nikiforov is the best male figure skater in the world. What’s next?





	

THE NEW YORKER  
Up Life’s Ladder | March 1, 2017 Issue  
Dinner with the Ice King  
_At age 27, Victor Nikiforov is the best male figure skater in the world. What’s next?_

By Eric Smith

Breaking world records (many of which were personally set by himself), making history, and completing dominating male figure skating for the past decade, or so-- it’s all old hat for Victor Nikiforov, a six-time Russian National champion, three-time European Champion, five-time Grand Prix Final gold medalist, and nearly five-time World Champion. 

Nearly, as the latest World Championship is still a few weeks away in Tokyo, where Victor is set to complete a historic, perfect season with a string of gold medals. 

I mention this to him as we settle into our seats in a secluded corner of Le Bernardin, and Victor smiles impishly, raking a hand through his carefully tousled hair. “We’ll see,” he demurs, with a kind of careful, practiced modesty. Victory, for Victor Nikiforov, has become an inevitability; the sun rises, the sky is blue, and by the end of a skating competition, a gold medal will rest on his chest. 

An attentive waiter interrupts our conversation to present the menu for the evening-- Victor happily orders a bottle of the house red and opts for the chef’s tasting menu. “Don’t tell Yakov,” he whispers at me with a naughty look as he generously tops off both our wine glasses. “I’m supposed to be keeping to his diet, but what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt me.” 

Yakov Feltsman is a formidable figure in the skating world and has been coaching Victor since his time in Juniors, along with a whole stable of frighteningly competent Russian skaters who look to make some serious waves in the upcoming PyeongChang Winter Olympics. His temper is legendary, though Victor seems to have no fear of it as he digs happily into the beautifully plated caviar that starts off the meal. 

“Vkusno!” he sighs in deep contentment. “I’m so glad Tania recommended this place to me.” 

Tania, of course, of Tania Bass Couture, world-famous fashion and costume designer for Olympic champions. It’s the whole reason Victor flew out to New York in the first place, to make last minute adjustments to his costume before Worlds, and to prepare for his upcoming season. At least, that is what many are assuming. For a world-famous athlete, and naturally gregarious celebrity, Victor Nikiforov has been remarkably reticent this year when discussing his future after the end of the season, preferring only to discuss the competition at hand. 

As Victor steadily works his way through the caviar and onto the lobster tail, delightedly snapping pictures throughout, I wait for the right moment to ask my question: 

What’s next? 

Victor pauses, fork halfway up to his mouth, as he looks at me blankly. “I think, the langoustine,” he says. “If I remember what the waiter said correctly.” 

I clarify: what’s next for _him_ , after this season. 

Victor looks at me for a long, long while, and for a moment I think of the clean cut of blades against cold ice, the man across from me suddenly not a man casually enjoying his dinner, but an athlete, frostily evaluating the competition. 

“What do you think I’ll do?” 

I fumble for an answer: compete for another season, skate a beautiful, stunning program full of quads, go for six consecutive World Championships, maybe go for gold at PyeongChang. In essence, be Victor Nikiforov, for at least another year. 

“And if I did, would you be surprised? Thrilled? Entertained?” 

For five years, the world has watched with bated breath as Victor skated across their TV screens, flew across the ice, debuted programs full of quads and landed them like no one else ever has in the history of figure skating. There is no more surprise any longer, only a quiet expectation that Victor will win and win again. 

I don’t say anything, but it seems as if Victor has heard my response anyway. 

“Perhaps I’ll compete, perhaps I won’t,” Victor says, with a contemplative look. “I don’t know. I _am_ getting old you know.” He flashes a small, self-deprecating grin. 

In a taxing sport where gold medals are routinely won by baby-faced youths and careers are over before many are old enough to legally drink (in America, at least), Victor is an outlier, hanging on to the keen edge of competitive figure skating with grace, experience, and sheer overwhelming skill. “It’s a little scary, I think, to look back and see all these young skaters rushing forward, with so much talent and bodies that can handle all that jumping. Scary, and yet exciting at the same time.” 

He props his chin on an elegant hand, looking thoughtful. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even get into coaching?” He pauses a beat, then two. 

Victor bursts out into peals of delighted laughter, throwing his head back. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, wiping away tears with one hand. “But the look on your face.” 

I sip at my wine, relieved to hear that it was just another joke. 

“Maybe not coaching, exactly,” Victor grins, as he lifts his own glass of wine. “First, I shall see how Worlds goes, take a long vacation after, and then decide later.” His mouth turns a shade sly. “Who knows what will happen in the future? But I wouldn’t count myself out, not yet.” ♦

 _Eric Smith is on the editorial staff of The New Yorker_.

 

* * *

 

Eric Smith retweeted  
GOLDEN SKATE @goldenskate 2h  
World Champion #VictorNikiforov leaving competitive figure skating to coach #YuriKatsuki. http://bit.ly/2f2rd22

Eric Smith @ESmithTNY April 11  
Oh god, it wasn’t a joke. HE WASN’T MAKING A JOKE.


End file.
